


Erebor's fourteen (plus three)

by Kytanna



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Family Fluff, Fix-It, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Oblivious Bilbo, Oblivious Thorin, POV Multiple, The company are the best wingmen, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, everybody ships bagginshield, the company as a family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:49:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29944746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kytanna/pseuds/Kytanna
Summary: Thorin and Bilbo are in love,clearly, and that is a fact everyone is aware of. Too bad the ones involved aren't so lucky, but that's perfectly fine, the company and a few guests are more than happy to help them realize.Now, if Thorin and Bilbo weren't so thickheaded it would be greatly appreciated...
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Thorin's Company, Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, Thorin Oakenshield & Thorin's Company
Comments: 27
Kudos: 65





	1. Balin

**Author's Note:**

> Surprinsingly, I'm not dead! Yay! 
> 
> Ok, in all seriousness I'm sorry for sudddenly going MIA but life has been hectic and I'm super bussy with my intership at a vet hospital and a bunch of other personal stuff, plus a puppy we adopted a month ago. For all who follow me for All the paths that lead to your heart, I'm super sorry but while it's currently on hold, I'm definitely not dropping it or anything, I'll be continued when I have free time. 
> 
> Meanwhile, pls enjoy this little fic I wrote for a friend back in Xmas, title is inspired by the Ocean's movies, bc you can bet your asses the company think they're that brand of badass.
> 
> The fic is finished and I'm going to try to remember to update it every couple of days!

Balin took a big gulp from his tankard, letting the familiar burn of cheap ale burn down his chest. He felt the tension of the day ease up and looked at the dwarves he had come to call family. They were all, except for Thorin and their beloved burglar, drinking around the big table of the main hall. The day, as all the days before, had been more than tiring, leaving them quite exhausted but content. 

The day had finally arrived and after such hardship, they finally had their home back. Of course, that didn’t mean much, having in mind the state it was in but Thorin was nothing if a persistent dwarf, he would see their home rebuilt and Balin would be there to help him. 

Now, as the months had passed, the injured healed and reconstruction on the way, their days were filled with packed schedules. All members of the company busy in their own ways, and that meant they rarely had the chance to be all together, hence the reunion to at least enjoy a good drink at the end of the day. Thorin and Bilbo would be delayed, Balin knew, and inwardly sighed in sympathy for them. Gandalf had come that very morning bearing not very good news concerning Bilbo’s properties back in the Shire so he - with the aid of Thorin - were going about what to be done. Balin could already picture it, Bilbo’s hazel eyes opened impossibly wide as he raged about his many relatives...

Not for the first time, Balin thanked that the hobbit had agreed to stay with them, taking the mantle of Thorin’s main advisor and part of the council. He helped Thorin with his duties as king even more than Balin himself did and, not for the first time, the nagging thought of what a wonderful consort Bilbo would make made itself known in Balin's mind.

“Where’s Bilbo?” Asked Kíli, as he sat down, having arrived not a moment before.

Watching everyone look at each other in confusion, Balin chose to speak up. “He and Thorin are with Gandalf, discussing Shire affairs, they’ll be here shortly.” 

Many groaned in sympathy and Balin chuckled amusedly but could hardly fault them. After having Bilbo explain Shire politics during a cold night during the quest - all too worried to fall asleep and to never wake up again as the clutches of the cold took hold of them - they had learnt to fear it as it raised more questions than answers. 

Balin, even with all his years of knowledge, could hardly understand the workings of it, relying too much on decorum and their own inner rules, being far too complex to grasp.

They all stood in silence for a moment, after that, faces scrunched in distaste. Even Daín, who didn’t know much, looked wary enough to not bring up the topic, but in the end, he was the one to bring up the other pressing topic first.

“So does anyone know when they’re announcing their courtship?” Daín lifted a bushy brow, questioning eyes travelling around the table over them, while Balin felt the beginning of a faint headache on its way.

Fíli groaned, nearly slamming his face against the table and he despaired. “I wish! At least it would free us of their longing looks and lingering gazes they throw each other. But this has been going on since almost the beginning of the quest so I fear that won't be happening any time soon.” 

“That can't be true, I was certain they would announce it any moment now. Are you sure what you speak of, lad?” Daín asked eyebrows pulled low on his forehead in a frown and a bewildered expression on his face.

Seeing coming one of Fíli's despairing rants about the topic, Balin intervened. “We have tried to confront them about it a few times in the past, inquiring and hinting that their closeness might be more than mere friendship but they fiercely deny it and use all sorts of excuses.”

“We can’t even be more direct and just smash their heads together until they kiss. They close off and start avoiding us like an illness. It’s useless, they’re too stupid,” Nori added with a frown, most likely remembering that time he had tried to make Bilbo admit his feeling and ended up with a scolding fierce enough to make a weaker dwarf cry and then been shunned off from Bilbo’s famous dinner parties that he celebrated every once in a while.

“What do we do then? If talking doesn’t work then we have to do something more drastic. We can’t just wait until they decide to get together, half of us might be dead by then!” Daín exclaimed with a grumble. “Besides, you said you haven’t brought up the topic in front of them in a while. Long has passed since the quest and their bond is even stronger, they might be more open to it,” Daín suggested, looking hopeful.

Balin felt a slight pity for him, he knew Daín wanted to be present and officiate Thorin’s wedding before leaving, but Balin truly doubted that would happen anytime soon, so unless Daín decided to live with them for a very extended period it was almost a faraway dream.

Judging by the dubious looks everyone was sending the dwarf, it seemed Balin wasn’t the only one to think that.

“Come on!” Daín insisted, clearly having noticed the pitying looks as well. “Don’t you want to see your King happy?”

“I’ll have to agree with you that speeding this up would be a good idea, but I’m not certain if this is the way to go, or if it will even work,” Dis said from the edge of the table. She had been deep in thought since Daín had opened his mouth. Her faint smirk being the only sign of what she thought of it, but now Balin could see the faint amusement of her eyes and the upward tilt of her lips. 

Balin felt his headache getting worse. 

“This can’t go on,  _ amad _ !" Kíli said, groaning pitifully. "We ought to get them together. Last time we might have failed but now you’re here and, like Daín said, time has passed and they might be more open now!” Kíli exclaimed, looking more hopeful with every word that left his mouth.

“Wait, are ye saying we couldn’t do it on our own?!” Dwalin screamed from the other side of the table, and Balin resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his brother’s idiocy, but of course, not everyone was as bright as Balin, and soon enough the table was full of complaints and yelling about who would ultimately bring Thorin and Bilbo together.

Balin picked up his tankard and slammed it repeatedly against the table, doing the job of silencing the almost deafening screaming. It certainly was not helping with his headache.

He held on the urge to sigh again. He was getting too old for this, maybe a nice vacation would do him good, he would have to think about planning one when all of this was over.

“What do you suggest we do, then?” Asked Fíli, eyeing his younger brother in interest.

Half of the table did the same and Balin couldn’t help the snort that left his mouth at the reminder of how incredibly nosy and gossipy dwarves could be, he wasn’t the exception, of course, but it was rather entertaining to see.

The young lad, looking rather frazzled at suddenly being stared by everyone, swallowed thickly before finding his bearings and clearing his throat. “We could take turns, help them get together. We  _ have _ to help them, Mahal knows they need it!” Replied Kíli, looking excited at the prospect of playing matchmaker to his uncle.

That made the rest of the dwarves hum in consideration and slowly, one by one, ended up reluctantly agreeing and even Balin found himself doing the same. He found the lad’s idea quite good — as half baked as it was — and even if all failed at least it would help to push their relationship closer. Besides, after all the gruelling work they had been doing this sounded like a nice break, yes, Balin was fully on board with this.

“We have to be subtle about this and act carefully, otherwise it might just end up having the opposite effect,” Balin chimed in calmly.

Dís hummed in agreement and added, “Their skulls are thicker than rocks. I propose we all get a turn but with certain ‘countermeasures’ to avoid making things worse. As Balin said, we need to tread carefully if we don't wish to make things worse.” 

“What sort of countermeasures?” Inquired Ori, curiously.

“Not outright referring to their feelings as love. That would for sure make them close off and be suspicious of any other later approach,” Dís offered after a moment of silence.

“Do not act rashly, be patient and don’t force things to make your plan work,” Oín added, not a moment later.

“Learn when to give up,” Balin emphasised, looking around the room pointedly. “This is not a battle, and as such needs to be treated with delicacy and care.”

“Try to make it seem as if they realize their feelings are their own doing. We can’t let them know of our involvement,” Nori added in with a decisive nod of his head.

When no one added anything else and all seemed satisfied enough with the plan Balin slammed his tankard again, this time a little calmer. “Then we’ll proceed like this.”

Before anyone could say anything Dís interrupted and spoke, “Balin, you’ll go first,”

Yells of complaints arose loudly and Balin sent the princess a slightly scathing glare of discontentment. 

“Why me?” He asked, almost in a grumble. He was hoping to be of the last, to be honest, and this ruined what he had been thinking about doing.

“Because you’re calm and know both Thorin and Bilbo very well, besides if your plan works then all the better, and if it ends up failing it’ll be a good example for the rest. Besides, I refuse to spend three hours arguing who’s going first and second. Bilbo and my brother will be here soon and if they learn about this all will be for nought.”

Balin let out a last exhausted sigh, before defeatedly agreeing. As little as he liked it, she was right and Balin had nothing to refute her claim. 

He really ought to go on a vacation...

  
  


* * *

  
  


Two days later found Balin finally executing his plan. It wasn’t much of a plan, really, but Balin was hoping it would still work.

He carefully approached the dwarf Balin had vowed to follow. The one he cherished as a great friend and part of his family. Sitting beside Thorin, as his king went through the most tedious tasks of the day — rather grumpily, Balin might add — he observed him, from behind his own stack of documents.

Gesturing with a hand towards the neat pile of paperwork that sat in a corner of the table, Balin asked, sounding nonchalant, “Bilbo helped you with that?” 

“Aye, I wasn’t able to make him help me with the rest but he helped me greatly with the requests of the building guilds. As for this,” Thorin said with a grimace, shaking the piece of paper closer to Balin, making Thranduil’s handwriting easier to read, “he told me I had to be the one to do it. He insists he can’t always be the one to deal with Thranduil. I’m still thinking of a way to convince him otherwise,” Thorin added, almost pettily. 

Balin chuckled fondly. It’s been too long since he had seen Thorin so at ease, worrying about annoying deals with neighbouring kingdoms, instead of his people and if they would have enough food to live another week. 

This is why his plan was so important. He wanted to see Thorin grow old and be happy until that happened and, so far, the one that had managed to make him the happiest, had been Bilbo. 

For many years Balin had been sure that Thorin was like him, meant to not be tied to anyone, meant to be on his own and content with it. How could he not, when Thorin never stopped to watch anything that wasn’t the wellbeing of his people? No, Balin hadn’t expected anything else. So when Bilbo Baggins appeared with the force of a calm breeze and attracted Thorin’s eyes to his every move, Balin had been more than a tad baffled.

“I’m sure you will convince him. Bilbo has a weak spot for you, laddie. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stayed,” Balin replied, faking innocence, as if every single of his words hadn’t been carefully measured.

“We’re his family now, he said so himself, that’s why he’s staying. We’re blessed to have him,” Thorin replied calmly, not deigning Balin's words with any reaction, eyes fixed on his half-ruined letter. The only sign that the words had registered on his mind was the fond smile that now laid nestled on his mouth.

“Well, yes, that’s true. You must admit, though, that the bond you two share is quite profound,” Balin insisted, lifting an eyebrow meaningfully, even if Thorin wasn’t looking at him.

Thorin hummed in agreement, and paused for a moment, before raising his head to look at Balin, eyes bright. Perfect, right where Balin wanted him. “He’s a very dear friend to me, one that-” as a knock was heard from the window Thorin cut himself off, making Balin look at the window, finding Thorin’s raven there with a note clutched on his beak.

Balin inwardly cursed the bird, glaring at it. Thorin was about to say something important, Balin was sure of it, he was distracted enough and his mind filled with enough thoughts of Bilbo that it made him rather loose-tongued. Balin had timed this to perfection and just as he was about to get a solid answer - maybe even enough to plant the seed of doubt and the inkling that this was not mere friendship in Thorin’s mind - his chance had been snatched by the feathered beast that was Thorin’s raven.

Feeling absolute resignation, because Balin could recognize failure when it smiled at him, simply watched as Thorin got up and opened the window, retrieving the note and reading it. He didn’t even say anything as Thorin apologized and bid him a goodbye before hastily leaving, claiming Bilbo had called for him, Thranduil’s letter still clutched and crumbled in a tight hold.

Balin sighed, still a little miffed at how fast things had taken a turn for the worse, and just hoped the next one that tried their hand had more luck than him because this had been an absolute failure. 

Honestly... he hadn’t even managed to get two sentences out of Thorin before he had been thwarted by the bird... 

Balin huffed. Honestly, thwarted by a  _ bird _ , of all things...


	2. Bofur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are with another chapter! Thanks a ton to every lovely person that left comments and kudos and subscribed to the fic! I'll try to answer them tomorrow, I have like 40 answered comments from other fics and I gotta catch up but I promise I read and appreciate every single one!

Bofur fiddled with his hat and took a deep breath before putting it back on top of his head and knocking on the door with a confidence he didn’t feel.

By Mahal, he just hoped this worked...

He had heard how Balin’s plan had gone, and with his own being so similar, Bofur didn’t feel as confident as when he had come up with it. Balin was smarter than Bofur, smarter than most of them, really, so he was seriously doubting his own would work.

The only difference, and what might be the key to his success, was that he would be approaching Bilbo.

The hobbit was one of Bofur’s closest friends and he liked to think the same could be said in return. They had grown close in the quest and he greatly cherished the burglar.

So when Bilbo finally opened the door, looking up at him with his strange bluish eyes, Bofur smiled his best smile.

“Oh! Bofur, hello, my friend. What brings you here? I hope I didn't forget any previous arrangement that we might have,” Bilbo said as a greeting, always polite and nice, making Bofur almost wince in thought about how he was going to take advantage of that. 

No, he shook his head, it was for the sake of his happiness.

With that in mind, he swung an arm around Bilbo and merrily exclaimed, “Nothing like that, don't worry, it’s more about what _I_ can do for you, my friend.”

“Oh?” Inquired Bilbo, giving Bofur an amused grin as his eyes shone with curiosity.

“Indeed! The tavern old Nabrack has been working on opening since he came back and it finally opened today. I thought since you have been so busy lately it might be a nice way to relax.”

“Really? That’s marvellous! I heard they were planning on serving some delicious pies and even that scrumptious bread only Bombur knows how to make,” Bilbo exclaimed, his eyes half-closed in delight, most likely imagining the bread and the pies. Bofur smiled indulgently at him, always fond of seeing Bilbo like that. Apart from his brother, Bofur had never seen anyone love food more than Bilbo Baggins.

Feeling slightly more confident and content now that the first step of his plan had worked, Bofur steered Bilbo towards the tavern, keeping the easy chatter and offering all the information he had about the food that might be available in the tavern. 

It wouldn’t be good if Bilbo suddenly remembered all the piles of work he kept in taking left and right. It had happened before and as much as they would have liked to keep Bilbo away from his work the hobbit was adamant and in the end, they couldn’t do much about it. 

The hobbit had adjusted fantastically well, and despite having quite the hefty pile of responsibilities, he looked happier and healthier than Bofur had ever seen him. Even back in his home in the Shire, he hadn’t looked this happy and excited.

Soon enough they were seated on big stools, all the food Bilbo’s ravenous self could eat, laid before them and a couple of tankards of ale by their sides.

Bofur sighed pitifully, almost dramatically, as he slumped on the table and when Bilbo directed an amused glance at him Bofur inwardly cheered. 

Step two complete.

“Love troubles again?” Bilbo asked indulgently, probably thinking Bofur had asked to meet him to complain about his love life or the lack of it. But again, that had been Bofur’s plan all along. He complained about his woes related to the matters of the heart often enough that Bilbo wouldn’t even think twice before listening to Bofur talk about it for hours and hours.

It was hardly his fault his heart craved for a companion, but he was certain it’ll happen soon. He was certain of it. But that was an issue for another day, currently, his priority was getting Thorin and Bilbo together. Because as it seemed, while Thorin’s stone sense was magnificent, the same couldn’t be said about his sense when it came to realize he had found his One. 

It was impossible to even think they weren't meant to be together. Bofur would eat his hat before even considering the idea.

“Aye, I thought I had finally found the right lass but in the end, we could barely agree on anything. We went to have dinner and she kept stealing my chicken. I can’t be with someone who steals my chicken, Bilbo!” Bofur complained loudly. His story wasn’t a lie but that one had happened too long ago to truly keep bothering Bofur. Bilbo didn’t need to know that, though.

“Oh, well. I’m sure you’ll find someone good soon. It’s a matter of having patience, I believe,” Bilbo offered calmly, taking bites of his pie and closing his eyes in delight. Bofur eyed him with envy, no matter what, when Bilbo ate the food it looked more delicious than it actually was. It was terribly unfair, in Bofur's opinion.

Bofur shook himself off and went back to his complaining, “I’m not so sure, Bilbo. Perhaps I simply don't know how to fall in love...”

Bilbo made a strange baffled sound, between a questioning hum and a confused squeak. “What do you mean?” He asked, after a few seconds when Bofur didn’t add anything. "How come you have these concerns when all the times before you have been so certain it was love."

Perfect. He was hooked now.

“Well, how do you even recognize you’re in love? Perhaps I’m mistaking the feeling of friendship for love. What tells me I’m not actually in love with you? Eh? How can I know? Perhaps I have never fallen in love before, and all has been an illusion!” Bofur made his best to put the most despondent face he could, trying to look as miserable and confused as he could.

Bilbo sputtered and Bofur bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. If Bilbo thought this was a joke, then the whole plan would be for nought. His friend had to believe Bofur was nothing short of serious, gravelly ailed with the worries and uncertainties of love.

“I sincerely doubt you’re in love with me, Bofur,” Bilbo finally said when he reigned his bearings. “Love doesn’t work like that. I suppose it can be confusing at times but when you truly find it, you’ll know, I can assure you.”

“But how do you know for certain, Bilbo? Have fallen in love before?” Bofur asked in a desperate voice, hoping it didn’t source any suspicion.

He was so close… Just a little push...

“Oh, well, I might have had one of two flings in my youth but no, to answer your question, I have never fallen in love. But I have seen many people in love, my parents were a fine example of that so I know what it looks like and I’m certain that I can recognize love if I see it. And I can reassure you that you don’t feel that sort of thing for me. We’re family, Bofur, nothing more,” Bilbo explained, patting Bofur on the shoulder in consolation. “I’m sure you’ll find someone soon, so don’t despair.”

Bofur swallowed the urge to groan and slam his forehead on the table and after a moment of hesitance he asked, “so, for what I understood, if someone was in love with you, you would be able to notice it?” To the Void with caution! Bilbo was clearly blind or the numerous tumbles in the hills, during the quest, had left him a little daft because otherwise, Bofur couldn’t understand how someone as smart as a whip as Bilbo was could be so oblivious.

Bilbo hummed, his nose twitching like it always did when he was mulling over something, “I suppose I-” but before he could finish those sacred words Bofur so dearly wanted to hear he was cut off by the arrival of someone.

Thorin.

Lifting his head Bofur could barely stop himself from glaring pettily at the dwarf in question. The cause of his anguish, and the anguish of many others...

Of course, now of all times, Thorin had to come to interrupt them.

Was this a sign of Mahal to not intervene? Because to Bofur it sure felt as one…

He nodded his head at Thorin in greeting and Thorin did the same to then focus on Bilbo, immediately forgetting about Bofur.

It was a bit insulting but Bofur didn’t take offence, he understood — even if they didn’t — and for once, it fitted him just fine. Let him watch how they interacted with each other and maybe Bofur could take advantage of that.

“Thorin! What a pleasant surprise!” Bilbo exclaimed as if instead of a few hours he hadn’t seen the king in weeks. “What brings you here?”

Bofur noticed the pleased but very faint flush of Thorin’s cheeks at Bilbo’s words. Mahal…

Thorin smiled at his hobbit friend and pulled a piece of cloth from his pocket, and Bofur belatedly noticed it was one of Bilbo’s treasure handkerchiefs. The ones he didn’t let anyone else touch because they were so special and fine. Surely it had nothing to do with the fact that Thorin had gifted them to him…

Thorin offered the handkerchief to Bilbo and said, voice full of a fondness he only had for Bilbo, “You left this in my office, I didn’t want you to fret thinking you had lost it.” 

Bilbo gasped quietly at that and quickly took the handkerchief from Thorin and Bofur, gaze so fixated on them as it was — eyes burning as he refused to blink to not miss anything — saw the moment their hands touched and how coy they reacted. He saw Bilbo’s pleased smile and flushed cheeks and Thorin’s red ears. Bofur’s burning dry eyes didn’t miss a thing and he was ready to eat his hat from the frustration that the short encounter brought.

“Thank you, Thorin! You’re so very kind to me. What would I do without you?” Bilbo said, voice quiet as he looked at Thorin as if he could see the very stars in his blue eyes. 

Bofur was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable and like an intruder at the intimate display but he refused to look away. They were in public and they were the one that had forgotten Bofur was just a hair away from them.

Thorin laughed, in that particular way he only reserved for Bilbo, they all had noticed and Bofur was sure that laugh was reserved for when Thorin thought Bilbo had done or said something incredibly endearing.

“Rest, perhaps? Lately, I only seem to be giving you work and worries,” he replied, his eyes kind and his smile easy, almost teasingly. Bofur was seriously starting to feel uncomfortable but he swallowed it and kept watching, his hunger to see their interactions more powerful.

“Oh, shush. You know I enjoy working by your side, you’re a great ruler, Thorin, and I’m lucky to help you with your tasks.” 

Thorin spared another fond smile at Bilbo and said, “So I have heard..." Shaking his head once, as if out of a trance, Thorin continued. "I’ll see you later, then. I still have to finish drafting the plan for the housings of the newcomers or Balin will have my hide.” 

Then, quicker than Bofur tired eyes could follow Thorin bent down and he could only watch in astonishment and shock as one of the most closed-off dwarves he had ever met rubbed lovingly his long nose against Bilbo’s round and small one. They were one breath away from kissing and none of them looked bothered by it, on the contrary, they seemed to be almost glowing as they separated. Obviously comforted and happy with the action, whatever that had been. 

Bofur was not sure if there had been a cave-in in the mines and this was a half fevered dream, as he died alone with half a mountain on top of him because otherwise, he couldn’t explain why they could be so close and yet so far away from each other, remaining permanently oblivious. It was baffling, to say the least.

“I’ll drop by later to check up on you, alright?” Bilbo asked, patting Thorin’s hand, that now that Bofur wasn’t too busy gawking at their _nose-rubbing_ — or whatever that had been — he now noticed it sat pointedly on top of Bilbo’s shoulder.

“Very well, I’ll be waiting for you.”

And with those last words, Thorin parted, barely sparing Bofur a glance, and quickly nodding at him when he seemed to remember he was not alone with Bilbo. If he weren't still slightly shocked from the previous encounter he might have even laughed at the way Thorin flushed all the way to his round big ears.

But so it was Bofur was too busy reigning his bearings and trying to look composed and if he hadn’t been with his eyes open as saucers for the last five minutes he would have chalked it all up to a hallucination.

It took him a couple of minutes but he managed, meanwhile Bilbo kept eating as if nothing strange had happened and looking all the better after his encounter with Thorin.

“Does he always do that?” Bofur asked tentatively.

Bilbo sent him a questioning hum, cocking his brow in confusion.

“The nose-rubbing thing...” Bofur trailed off, almost blushing himself at the memory of such an intimate act. The uncomfortable feeling was coming back...

“Oh, that! It’s a hobbit greeting,” Bilbo explained merrily with an easy grin and his cheeks flushed in merriment, “much like your forehead bumping. I showed it to Thorin a couple of days ago and has been doing it nonstop since. He’s so very nice, told me he wanted to make me feel at home,” his hobbit friend added with a hum, and Bofur had to bite the inner side of his cheek to stop himself from showing any sign of his disbelief.

“Really...” 

“Yes, yes, Thorin’s so silly sometimes but I greatly appreciate it. He’s always so good to me...” Bilbo said, looking entirely oblivious and sounding entirely too longing for someone who claimed that had never fallen in love.

Bofur had half a mind to try and make Bilbo see how there was simply no way that nose-rubbing business was a platonic thing. Had they smooched each other right there it might have looked more proper and decent than what they had done. In the end, he discarded the idea, it would be against the rules and, truth be told, Bofur didn't want to deal with the aftermath of that revelation.

After that, Bofur tried his best to engage Bilbo in a follow up of the conversation Thorin had previously ruined but it ended up being useless, Bilbo was too distracted after Thorin’s arrival and no matter what Bofur said, Bilbo wouldn’t get hooked enough to indulge Bofur’s desperate attempts. All in all, it had been a failure and for a moment Bofur felt tempted to smack some sense into Bilbo with his hat. 

He had been so close… but truly, having in mind what he had seen Bofur was starting to wonder if what they were doing wasn’t in vain. He just wished, in his mind, good luck to the next brave soul that tried to get his plan in motion and went to rest his tired eyes and perhaps to go complain to his brother. Bombur was the best listener, after all...


	3. Thranduil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time we have a far shorter chapter so I might post another one tomorrow as a treat, might cheer up your Sunday!

Thranduil prided himself on being observant. His long life and less than kind experiences helped with that. So when he noticed, back in the dungeons, the way Thorin Oakenshield raged and turned his head, subtly - as if to not rose attention - but almost desperately in search of something that wasn’t there Thranduil was hardly surprised that his prisoners had escaped with the aid from another missing member.

But then, when he saw the way they acted around each other, despite everything. Despite the looming doom, they were about to face. Despite the dragon sickness and despite all Thranduil knew about Thorin Oakenshield, he could hardly believe his eyes. 

Thranduil had seen many forms of love in the years he had been on Arda and had felt quite a few of those himself. So even if now his heart was almost as cold as ice, Thranduil knew of love. But even knowing about it wouldn't have prepared him to witness the devotion and longing and utter yearning the strange hobbit had for the dwarven king. It was more than baffling to see, but in a way, even if he felt reluctant to admit it, Thranduil found it almost humbling to see — memories of his long-deceased beloved fleeting on his mind.

So when the situation arose, after a more than infuriating but ultimately fruitful meeting with the dwarves and the Men, Thranduil was left alone with Bilbo as the hobbit accompanied him towards the outside of the mountain. Seeing for what it was, Thranduil seized his chance. 

Turning his head slightly and eyeing the hobbit he had almost come to appreciate, he finally spoke. “It must be rather trying to be by the side of someone like Thorin Oakenshield, but you have managed quite wonderfully and for that I commend you.”

The hobbit looked cautiously at him, most likely not having expected Thranduil to have realized their true relationship with the dwarven king. Thranduil felt the faint warmth of satisfaction stir on his chest. 

“Thank you, I suppose...” Said the hobbit, with brows furrowed in confusion. “Thorin is very dear to me so we simply balance each other out,” he added, after a few seconds of silence when Thranduil didn’t take his eyes off him.

The words make him stop for a moment in consideration. What the hobbit had said was true, he had seen it, after all. The softer and kinder demeanour Thorin Oakenshield carried around him nowadays.

The way when things didn’t go either of their ways, the other was quick to reassure. The way, when Tauriel had decided to bound herself to a dwarf, of all beings, the hobbit had been the first to accept her and made the others warm up to her. 

Thranduil hummed considering, and after one last lingering gaze at the small frame of the hobbit, he opened his mouth once again, “I can see that. Do invite me to the ceremony, I’ll make time to come, not every time the world is blessed with this kind of-  _ affection _ .” he hesitantly said the word, but before he could get his answer he turned and left, politely sending his goodbye with a nod and a promise to come back again. The last thing he saw was the confused and scrunched up face of the hobbit, entirely too reminiscent to the hares that roamed his forest. 

Feeling proud of himself and his observational skills, Thranduil felt another tittle of satisfaction rose on his chest, and curled his mouth slightly in a faint grin. 

He didn’t need to wait for a reply or a multitude of stuttered false excuses about their relationship. It would be insulting for both of them. Thranduil had the inkling that they hadn’t announced it to the mountain so he would wait until he got the invitation to get his answer and to relish in his cleverness. After all, it would be entirely foolish to not invite him to such a wedding.


	4. Daín

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was about to head to bed and I suddenly remembered I said I would post another chapter so even if it's a little late I hope you guys enjoy Daín's turn.

Daín seethed as he made his way towards Dís’ rooms. After having hastily called an emergency meeting with the members of the company and Dís, he was finally free to make it to their appointed meeting place.

He could hardly believe what he had witnessed.

The cheek, the utter cheek!

Why had Daín expected anything else was beyond him, but never again. 

Spineless twig…

Go figure Thranduil scrawny behind would go and try to ruin their plans. Daín didn’t care if he hadn’t known — and he better not have known about them or else — he still had interfered and had been just a beard-hair away from completely ruining everything.

Daín opened the door with a bang, his ire too strong to be contained.

“I cannot believe that spineless woodland sprite!!” He bellowed. The rest of the group were left looking at him in varying degrees of surprise or irritation, in Dís’ case.

“What happened?” Balin cautiously asked, looking troubled but Daín paid him no mind, instead, stomping around the room like a caged warg.

“I saw Thranduil talking with Bilbo. He asked to be invited to the wedding!” Daín shouted in frustration as he remembered how he had come back to the meeting room — in search of a forgotten draft of a safer and quicker route between the Iron Hills and Erebor — just in time to see the idiotic elf harassing Bilbo.

Shouts of alarm and curses were heard around the room and Daín felt vindication at not being the only one affected by the news. Perhaps he would be able to convince a few to finally end Thranduil one and for all. He definitely had it coming for a long time…

“Bless Bilbo’s thick head in this sort of matter because I’m certain the question flew past the lad’s head and, at least, that worthless elf had the sense of not outright saying the word ‘wedding’,” Daín added, feeling slightly calmer and willing to offer that small comfort.

“What did he say? We need to know if he has truly ruined our plans or we can still salvage them,” Dís asked, looking murderous. Yes, Daín thought. If anything, she would be more than on board with murdering the elf, all knew not to mess with her plans or family and the buffoon elf had done both.

“I arrived just in time to hear him ask Bilbo to invite him to the ceremony because not every day the world is blessed with this much 'affection',” Daín repeated irritatedly, rolling his eyes as he did so, the words leaving a foul taste on his mouth. “I’m not sure if the poncey elf said more before I arrived but Bilbo looked utterly baffled and asked me if I knew what he meant by that. I would wager we’re safe, but just barely...”

Many heaved a sigh of relief and a few others nodded, looking still wary.

“We can’t have Thranduil staying alone with Thorin or Bilbo, only Mahal knows what nonsense that elf will spew!” Gloín shouted and all yelled their agreements.

“This was a close call so let that be a reminder that we must remain cautious of anyone saying anything too inappropriate,” Balin added, gravely.

Daín nodded, Balin was right. They needed to be careful and observant of what was to happen. 

“I’m going next,” announced Daín. “I’ll not let that blond twig best me. I’m going to be the one to win and get Thorin and Bilbo together!”

“Oh! So it’s a contest now, or perhaps a bet?” Nori asked, his smug star-shaped face twisting in a cunning smirk. 

“What are you saying, if someone is going to win, it’s going to be me!” Gloín shouted.

“Someone said bet? I want in!” Someone, possibly Ori, exclaimed.

Soon enough the room was plunged into chaos, everyone was shouting and yelling, Daín being the loudest of all. Had it not been for Dís slamming her hand on top of the table repeatedly and calling order, it might have gone like that until nightfall. 

Quick as a wink she was the first one to place a bet and, not a second later, the rest of them did the same. Daín didn’t expect anything else from his youngest cousin, she was ruthless on her own right, even at the expense of her brother.

A couple of hours later Daín left with a smile on his face, a plan on the making and the possibility of well-earned coins, making it all the more alluring.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“You work very well alongside Thorin…” Daín began, conversationally, as he helped Bilbo dig into the earth to plant his new seeds — especially delivered from the Shire — in the garden he and Thorin had been constructing.

Never in his life, he would have expected to be elbow deep in dirt, surrounded by greens and flowers and yet, now that he was doing just that, he found it oddly relaxing. It reminded Daín of taking care of the boar piglets, even if the plants didn’t really do much but stay still.

Bilbo hummed, agreeing. “We complement each other surprisingly well and, luckily for all of us, I’m well acquainted with the tasks Thorin needs a hand with. I’m quite happy with it, in fact. It’s very pleasant to work with him, even if he can be quite stubborn at times,” Bilbo easily replied with a tinkling laugh, his attention fixed in the little sapling he was planting on a patch of earth with utmost care.

Daín had heard the story before, about the little acorn and how — after everything was said and done and Erebor was finally theirs — Thorin had helped plant and grow the little and battered thing, the one that had grown into a strong sapling, the one Bilbo currently held on his hands as if it was a priceless treasure. 

It would be endearing if the idiocy of the situation and the lack of awareness Thorin and Bilbo had wasn’t so infuriating.

Daín wanted to go back to his mountain, damn it!

He couldn’t leave, though. He had promised himself he would be here for Thorin’s wedding — furthermore, he would officiate it! — and he wouldn’t leave until that happened.

Daín missed his home and his family but at least he had the comfort of knowing his wife was more than capable of ruling on his stead, besides, it would be good practice for his son, it wasn’t everyday Daín left so much workload on his hands. 

With a chuckle, Daín said, “Aye, that’s the line of Durin for you, lad.” He hummed in surprise, as if he had just realized something — all faked, of course, but Bilbo didn’t need to know that — catching the attention of the hobbit.

“What?” Bilbo asked curiously, glancing at Daín from behind his fluffy curls, his grey eyes fixed on him.

“I was just thinking about how almost all of your tasks are what normally the consort would handle, how curious...” Daín said with calculated ease.

Bilbo blinked a few times in surprise, “Oh, now that you mention it, I suppose you’re right...” Bilbo had a faraway look for a moment but quickly shook himself off. “It’s a good thing Thorin doesn’t seem about to get a consort anytime soon, then! I wouldn’t want to lose my job,” he added, jokingly.

Daín laughed with him distractedly as he tried to judge if Bilbo’s cheer was not a simple cover for what he might think was an unrequited love. Surely he wouldn’t be so daft… But no, the hobbit seemed genuinely amused by Daín’s comment, so that strange pause might have been due to something else. Daín would have to look further into it.

“Well, if the need ever arises I’m sure you would make an excellent instructor for any future consort that might come, be it Thorin’s or Fíli’s. Mahal knows I'm going to have to work hard to shape my son’s betrothal. My boy chose a raven carer, the lad has a good head on his shoulders and he clearly loves my son but the boy knows nought of politics and the duties that will one day befall him. At least he’s willing to learn.” Daín explained and let some of his true worry leak through his words. He wasn’t lying to Bilbo and while he might have liked someone more knowledgeable to be his son's consort, he wasn’t about to refuse him from being with the one he loved. “You would never have that problem I’m sure-” Daín added cryptically and cursed himself when he almost revealed too much, “-even if you need to teach the duties to a future consort I’m sure your teachings would shape anyone. You’re very skilled and I’m glad my cousin has you by his side.”

Bilbo looked at him, surprise evident on his sunny and round face, but Daín could see he was touched by his words. 

Bilbo about to pat him on the shoulder stopped himself, taking stock of his dirty hands and instead bumped their shoulders together amicably. “You’re such a flatterer! If you ever need help with your future son-in-law, do tell me, I’ll be happy to lend a hand. We might not be as close as I’m with the company but I consider you a dear friend. I wouldn’t mind calling you family, given time,” Bilbo added, smiling that sweet smile of his. 

The irony of his words wasn’t lost on Daín and just like that all his urgency to get him and Thorin simmered down. 

It felt a bitter taste in his mouth, his loss and resignation, but trying to rush Bilbo when he obviously wasn’t ready and trying to trick him, tasted even fouler.

The lad seemed to cherish their friendship, and Daín would be a fool if he denied he felt the same way. In all the months he had been in Erebor, he had grown close and familiar with the hobbit. A baffling little being with large feet and heart too big for his small frame, one who had won his cousin’s heart, and made a family out of a ragtag bunch of dwarves. 

He’d just have to wait and see and when the time finally came he would bring his son’s consort and take Bilbo on his offer. Mahal knew how well the Iron Hills would benefit from someone trained by the sharp and cunning little hobbit that was Bilbo.

So Daín took a moment to mourn the lost money of the bet and let all his worries leave him, deciding to enjoy his time with his unlikely friend. They still had much to do and he, at the very least, wanted the bragging rights of having helped plant so many of the little greens the hobbit liked to eat. Daín would take what he could get… 


End file.
